


Capital A

by TerenceFletcher



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Episode Related, M/M, Pre-Slash, S12E01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-22 21:25:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8301661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerenceFletcher/pseuds/TerenceFletcher
Summary: A coda to 12x01; minor spoilers.





	

“You’ve introduced me with a full name.”

Dean blinked, then pressed his lips tight, then opened his mouth again as if he was about to start speaking. But no sound followed, so Castiel went on. 

“I can’t remember last time that happened. Perhaps, it’s some bad memory trick, but I’m positively sure you haven’t referenced my name like that for a long time, Dean.”

Dean frowned, his glance rushed desperately to Castiel and started its way around, only pausing a short while on his face without meeting the eyes. Uneasiness in Dean’s whole body was almost feasible, with the way his back was stiffened and fists clenched. He felt uncertain and awkward—both were very rare things about him—and under any other circumstances it would have made him furious in less than a minute. But now he was surprisingly silent.

“You’ve also mentioned my wings—“ in spite of himself, Castiel cut off for a second, “—and harp which I obviously never owned. Presumably that was to complement the canonical image of an angel portrayed in a human culture. Although there is an outstanding variety of paintings and sculptures created over the last millennia, the key features remain the same. Recognizable but not very accurate.”

Dean shifted and made a slight movement ahead. There was just a short distance between them, they were standing so close that Dean’s outstretched arm could easily touch Castiel. Yet it didn’t, it kept hanging loose on the side in a falsely relaxed position.

“Cas—"

“Let me finish, please.” Dean’s shoulders dropped helplessly, and Castiel felt a sudden urge to grip them tight as he already had done once. More than once. “What I was saying is this introduction of me that you’ve made to your mother was— “

“I know,” Dean interrupted, “I know, yeah, it was kinda stupid and that’s not what I really meant to say, and—"

“No, Dean, it wasn’t. Not with the capital ‘A’.”

Dean startled and looked up, squinting, small wrinkles running apart from the corners of his eyes. 

“What’s wrong with the capital ‘A’?”

“Nothing. Absolutely and definitely nothing is wrong.” Dean was still gazing at him, so Castiel added with a little smile, “It was the most honorable and flattering introduction I’ve ever experienced. The way you’ve put it, mentioning the capital letter to describe my entity … sounded like something special. It was much more than I could have expected.”

Dean’s expression changed in no time. Overwhelmed with relief and joy and probably even something else that Castiel couldn’t immediately recognize, Dean was literally shining. He eagerly smiled back.

“’Cause it’s you, Cas,” he said, “’cause you are very special. To me, you are … You can’t imagine how special you are. You always have been.” There was another smile then, more of a usual Dean’s smile—a bit crooked, with just a corner of his mouth—fading to a grin, “By the way you started, I thought I'd pissed you off.”

“I know.”

Dean shot him a quick glance. “You know? So you’ve … Dammit, Cas, you’ve been mocking at me?” 

Castiel nodded. “A little.”

“Oh you feathery asshole, you freaking bastard, you …” Dean didn’t make it to the end of the list as he started laughing. His face turned red, and tears were running down his freckled cheeks. After the last few bursts of laughter ceased, he took a deep breath and opened his arms. “That,” he declared, “deserves a really good hug. Come here.”

Castiel obeyed without a word. Hugs were way too serious to be mocking at them. 

And neither was he going to waste any time out of his well-deserved hug.


End file.
